Punches From an Angry God
by Narko-Darko
Summary: On a rainy night in an empty city, Max runs into a sleazeball cop who has had one two many chances to clean up his act.


Max covered the flame from the rain with his hand as he lit up the cigarette and leaned against the diner window. The neon sign on the other side flashed 'Monty's' in hot neon pink which reflected onto the wet concrete sidewalk. A loud banging noise startled him. He turned his head to see the waitress from inside knocking on the glass. He could hear her muffled voice telling him not to lean on the window. He exhaled some smoke in a sigh and began to walk down the empty street, the rain hitting his face hard like punches from an angry god. What a wonderful night this was shaping up to be. 

He huddled under the awning of a hotel, an oasis in the terrible storm. He continued to puff away on his cigarette as he heard the rain pounding down on the plastic above him. A car drove by, as black as the night, splashing water onto the sidewalk and washing a burger wrapper down into the gutter. Then, there was a loud crash from high above. This was quickly followed by a loud scream that got progessively closer and louder. After that, there was the loud rip of plastic as something fell through the awning, and finally, a loud crunchy splat as a body fell straight into the wet cement in front of Max. The cigarette drooped in his mouth as he watched the rain fall through the hole in the awning, washing the blood down into the same gutter he had just watched a burger wrapper sink. He decided to put the cigarette out.

* * *

"Hey there, uh, someone just fell out of your hotel and plastered themselves over the sidewalk," Max said to the clerk as he walked up to the front desk. "It's really kinda gross, you might wanna call for some help."

The young clerk stared at Max with confused eyes. "Hmm?"

"Someone's dead out there. They fell from a room in this place. You can go look if you want but I wouldn't suggest it as they seemed to have used their face to block their fall," Max explained as he shook some excess water from his hair. "If you don't believe me, I can call 'em, I've got nothing better to do tonight."

The clerk stared off into their space for a few seconds. "Huh? No, no. I...I guess I better call them. This is not good."

A loud snort emitted from the open stairwell in the corner room. A man in a cheap beige suit slowly walked down, his black tie crooked and whatever hair he had left on his balding head was a mess. Max recognized him instantly, Detective Baxter Quinn, a sleazy bastard he had known back on the force. "Ah shit," Baxter mumbled loudly. "Shit shit shit shit shit shit."

Quinn stumbled over to the front doors and looked through the clear glass, taking a long look at the dead body getting assaulted with rain on the front steps. He slammed his fist down on the glass and leaned against the doors, his forehead making a loud screeching noise as it slid down it. "Goddammit, I am such a fucking dolt," he yelped like an old beaten dog.

The clerk's hand quickly slid for the phone. Max lifted his hand in a 'stop' motion. "Change of plans," Max mumbled quietly to the kid. "I'm gonna take care of this personally."

The clerk looked over at Baxter who was taking a swig from a metal flask and moaning incoherently. He figured what had to be done, had to be done. He put down the phone. Max turned around and shook his head in shame as he watched Baxter whine and drink. With a final sigh, he walked over.

"Detective Quinn, long time no see," Max said with a fake grin as he walked up to the drunken fool.

Baxter looked up and a smile formed on his face. "M...Max? Oh thank god you're here. I need your help now, buddy."

"What's the matter, have some unfinished business with our bloody friend out on the sidewalk?" Max pointed outside. "He could use some company maybe."

"I fucked up. God, I fucked up so bad. I was only 'sposed to work him over. I'm so fucked. I'm so fucked," Baxter rambled on, his breath reeking of stale cheap beer.

Max held out his hand. "Get up. I'm gonna help you."

Baxter slowly looked up, his eyes bloodshot and baggy. "Really?"

"Yeah. You're always fucking up, right? You shot that kid last year. That junkie mother of his too. And the Cormona brothers, I remember them, you took a blowtorch to their faces because they wouldn't pay you off. You can't let the cops get a hold of you this time, you killed another guy! They might do something drastic this time, you might lose your badge! We can't have that."

Baxter took another swig and nodded wildly. "Oh god, come on. We gotta hide the body."

"No, no. It's too late for that," Max pulled Baxter to his feet. "Let's get back to the room. We'll work out something there."

Max held up the burnt out cop and began to walk with him up the stairs. As he passed by the desk, the clerk motioned to the phone.Max shook his head. Not yet.

* * *

The room was cold when they entered, most likely because the glass in the window in the far wall was missing. Baxter stumbled over to the bed in the center of the room and collapsed onto the end of it, his flask falling onto the carpet.

Max stared at it. "Flask on the ground...they'll think you were drunk when you did it," he mumbled to himself.

"What did you say, Max?" Baxter asked in slurred speech.

"Me? Nothing. Get up. I want you to show me how you pushed him through the window," Max said as he kicked around some of the glass from the window embedded into the carpet.

Baxter slowly pushed himself off the bed, stumbling over to the window. Max leaned through it, sticking his head into the dark rainy night. It was exhilarating to see the city's light in such clear beauty as rain gently fell on top of it. For the first time of the night, he felt at ease.

"Baxter, you need to feel the rain hit your face as you look out the window, it's beautiful," Max spoke as he brought his damp head in from the storm.

Baxter was too drunk to question why feeling rain hit your face was more important than covering up a murder. He slowly stumbled forward, resting his shaky arms on the window pane as he stuck his head out into the night.

Baxter looked down at the sidewalk below. "I can see people gathering down on the street below, we better figure o-"

Max pushed him through the open window. Baxter didn't really scream, he was too drunk too, but Max could still hear the splat from 6 floors up. He leaned over the edge and looked down, the body of Quinn could be seen sprawled on the curb, his beige suit now more of a reddish colour.

Max was disappointed. "Oh Baxter, Baxter...you had so many chances to clean up your act."

He left the room, careful not to touch anything directly with his hands. He walked down the long hallway to the stairwell and walked back down to the lobby. A large crowd of guests were now swarming the clerk, panic covering their faces as they pointed repeatedly to the front doors. The clerk's eyes glanced over to Max who nodded slightly. The clerk picked up the phone.


End file.
